Pete Happy
Moderator: Giants
Pete Happy
My old friend Pedro Feliz got his wish on a multi-year deal, sort of, today by signing with the Phillies. Giants fans (or anyone forced to watch Giants games because that's what on TV) are relieved and disappointed at the same time. I'll miss the home runs, and the swinging and missing at the low and away slider (seriously, why does anyone throw him anything else?), but what I'm really excited about is that in that bandbox Pedro has a chance to become the first 30 home run hitter ever to have an OPS below .700. Is this rant because I'm kinda bitter that I'm losing his inflated stats after trading him? Yeah. Oh well.
McCovey chronicles was asking people to post analogies of Pedro Feliz, a couple were so funny I had to post them. Enjoy:
Watching Pedro Feliz leave the Giants is like being trapped in a dark theater with your wife/girlfriend watching the worst romantic comedy you have ever seen in your life. Not only does the movie blow chunks, but there's a guy a few rows in front of you who 6-foot-6 and is sitting as tall in his seat as he possibly can. He is making disgusting noises while drinking soda and eating movie nachos, making him all the more annoying. It's not so much that he's making noise during the God-awful movie, but it's the actual sounds that are annoying.
The guy finishes his food, gets up from his seat, and leaves the theater. While you are still there stuck watching a horrific movie, at least the one distraction is gone.
Pedro Feliz is like a bunch of bananas.
You buy the bunch of bananas, even though it's still kind of green, because you really want bananas. You're craving bananas. You need a banana. You can't wait for bananas, so even though you know the bunch you got isn't ripe yet, you rip a banana off, peel it, and take a few bites. But it's not satisfying. It's still too hard and the sugars haven't really started coming out yet so it just tastes like paste.
You're disappointed, but you're sure that if you just wait one day, these bananas are going to be great. So you wait.
Next day comes, you head downstairs to grab a bite of that sweet, sweet banana. You look at the bunch, though, and it's still a little green. You figure, "I've got plenty of bananas here, I can eat one today and have plenty left over for when they're really good." So you take one, and it's only marginally better than the day before. The sugars have come out a little, but it's still hard as a rock made of hard banana, with two or three spots that show the potential to have been perfect with just one more day of seasoning.
This vicious cycle goes on for three more days. You only have 3 bananas left on your 8 banana bunch. You consider going out and buying a new bunch. A better looking bunch. You'd been out yesterday and all the bananas there had looked great. But you didn't do it. You didn't want to throw away the bunch you've been working on for five days. You didn't want to waste your money when you knew that what you had at home would ripen any day now and you'd be eating the best fruit you've had in weeks.
So you come back to the bunch at home. You get the banana the next day and take the ripest looking one there. You're done screwing around with this bunch. It's time to put up or shut up about bananas! The thing is mush, though. You can't believe it. You've been waiting for these things to ripen, and it looks like they passed you by in the middle of the night!
Still, you concede that this might have just been one bad banana in the bunch, and decide to give it one more chance. A one day contract, if you will. You know there are two bananas on the bunch, but you're only willing to try one of them. So you eat one the next day. The last one you'll have of this bunch if it's no good. It's disgusting. All brown and way way too soft.
That's it, you're done. You throw the last one out your window, but some guy named Philly picks it up. He's a chef, and this way too ripe banana is perfect for this thing he's cooking. He's thrilled. The two are a perfect match.
All you have left at home are pears and oranges. You don't really want bananas anymore, but you want to remember what a good one tastes like. You go to store and all those great bananas you saw the other day are spotty and old. You're freaking sick and tired of bad bananas. So you screw it.
You'll just have a Frandsen when you get home. I mean an orange. It's not really a banana, but it's freaking time to settle for a piece of fruit that has any chance of being ripe.
Watching Pedro Feliz leave the Giants is like being trapped in a dark theater with your wife/girlfriend watching the worst romantic comedy you have ever seen in your life. Not only does the movie blow chunks, but there's a guy a few rows in front of you who 6-foot-6 and is sitting as tall in his seat as he possibly can. He is making disgusting noises while drinking soda and eating movie nachos, making him all the more annoying. It's not so much that he's making noise during the God-awful movie, but it's the actual sounds that are annoying.
The guy finishes his food, gets up from his seat, and leaves the theater. While you are still there stuck watching a horrific movie, at least the one distraction is gone.
Pedro Feliz is like a bunch of bananas.
You buy the bunch of bananas, even though it's still kind of green, because you really want bananas. You're craving bananas. You need a banana. You can't wait for bananas, so even though you know the bunch you got isn't ripe yet, you rip a banana off, peel it, and take a few bites. But it's not satisfying. It's still too hard and the sugars haven't really started coming out yet so it just tastes like paste.
You're disappointed, but you're sure that if you just wait one day, these bananas are going to be great. So you wait.
Next day comes, you head downstairs to grab a bite of that sweet, sweet banana. You look at the bunch, though, and it's still a little green. You figure, "I've got plenty of bananas here, I can eat one today and have plenty left over for when they're really good." So you take one, and it's only marginally better than the day before. The sugars have come out a little, but it's still hard as a rock made of hard banana, with two or three spots that show the potential to have been perfect with just one more day of seasoning.
This vicious cycle goes on for three more days. You only have 3 bananas left on your 8 banana bunch. You consider going out and buying a new bunch. A better looking bunch. You'd been out yesterday and all the bananas there had looked great. But you didn't do it. You didn't want to throw away the bunch you've been working on for five days. You didn't want to waste your money when you knew that what you had at home would ripen any day now and you'd be eating the best fruit you've had in weeks.
So you come back to the bunch at home. You get the banana the next day and take the ripest looking one there. You're done screwing around with this bunch. It's time to put up or shut up about bananas! The thing is mush, though. You can't believe it. You've been waiting for these things to ripen, and it looks like they passed you by in the middle of the night!
Still, you concede that this might have just been one bad banana in the bunch, and decide to give it one more chance. A one day contract, if you will. You know there are two bananas on the bunch, but you're only willing to try one of them. So you eat one the next day. The last one you'll have of this bunch if it's no good. It's disgusting. All brown and way way too soft.
That's it, you're done. You throw the last one out your window, but some guy named Philly picks it up. He's a chef, and this way too ripe banana is perfect for this thing he's cooking. He's thrilled. The two are a perfect match.
All you have left at home are pears and oranges. You don't really want bananas anymore, but you want to remember what a good one tastes like. You go to store and all those great bananas you saw the other day are spotty and old. You're freaking sick and tired of bad bananas. So you screw it.
You'll just have a Frandsen when you get home. I mean an orange. It's not really a banana, but it's freaking time to settle for a piece of fruit that has any chance of being ripe.
